


The Death Code

by Bearsquare



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2313605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearsquare/pseuds/Bearsquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 1920's during the era of prohibition, two gangs, The Doctors of Demise, and the Texas Rangers fight tooth and nail for territory and power, but are the leaders able to set aside their qualms for the most powerful feeling, love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting to know the foe

“Zhey didn’t pay did zhey?” A white tuxedo clad man removed a cup of liquor from his lips and set it down on the bar counter top. He puffed a few blows on a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips, and tore it from his mouth, rubbing it into the wooden bar top, leaving behind a small burn mark. He swiveled around on the red bar seat and jumped to his feet, cupping his hand around a lighter, lighting himself yet another cigarette.

“S-sorry Doc.. I.. tried...”

The ‘Doc’ clicked his thumb against his pinky fingernail, seemingly more interested in the action than the person addressing him. Regardless, he removed the smoke from his lips, slowly exhaling the plume of smoke from his lips, and clapped a red gloved hand against the trembling young man’s back, “Let me handle zhis.”  
______________________________________________________________________________

“Mr. Conagher, let me just say zhat ve are on fragile terms here. Ve have a deal. I need my money, how else am I supposed to run a business?” The previously white tuxedo wearing german cocked his head to the side and placed his hand out, motioning with his fingers to pay up. His face portrayed nothing but strictly business, with a simple straight mouth that curved a bit at the sides, almost like a devilish smirk, but his eyes were a steely, glacier blue, that seemed much more tired and weary opposed to the numerous times the two had met before.

Mr. Conagher just sneered, “I ain’t calling the shots, Schonheit.” He was obviously not happy about having to say that, this ‘Schonheit’ knowing full well that, one, he did not run the business, and two, the reasons why. “You know how ‘the Boss’ is.” Dell sighed, rolling his eyes beneath shades at ‘the Boss’.

“Herr, I understand, however, your Boss very vell understands vhy ve are known as ze Doctors of Demise. I leave vith a fair varning, Mr. Conagher. I vant my money. I vant it by ze end of ze vork veek.” He tilted his head up just a tad, looking down his nose at the slightly shorter man, as he adjusted the tails of his black leather jacket.

“I’ll tell him you said so…” Mr. Conagher sneered, moving to round the corner to his left. He stopped right at the edge, head turning over his shoulder, “I would watch your back Schonheit.” He said simply, before rounding the corner, cigar already placed firmly between his teeth.  
______________________________________________________________________________

“We’re not paying.” The older looking man growled, slamming his gloved hand into the table, bottle of BLU beer falling to its side. “Schonheit can go suck himself off!” He snarled, glaring down at the short Texan man standing in front of him.

“Boss, don’t.” Mr. Conagher sighed, removing the cigar from his mouth. “He’s a valuable business partner.” He started, looking up over his shades, head tilted down.

“Shut your face!” The older man snarled, whipping around to poke his finger at the Texan. “Unlike your father, I won’t take your crap. You don’t know shit about business, you Southern Dipshit! Just stick to fixing the elevators, cars, and the transformer. Let the smarter people handle business.” He spat, walking around the desk to stand in front of Mr. Conagher.

Conagher’s lip twitched, before he lunged forward, fist connecting with the older man’s jaw, throwing him back against the desk. He skulked forward, grabbing the man’s tie, and pulling him up with it. “Say that again, try me!” He snarled, fist ready to hit the man again.

“You’re… A… Southern… Dipshit…” The older man snarked, blood on his teeth. With that Conagher’s fist shot forward again. And again. And a third time. Sadly he was only focused on his boss’ increasingly bloodied face, not realizing the old man had been grabbing a revolver, until it was stuck right up against his head, “hit me again. Try it.” The gray haired man spat, blood splatting against Conagher’s chin. “I don’t care if you’re family, I will blow your brains out.”

Conagher tensed, almost willing to hit the old man again, but ended up just sighing and dropping the old man against the desk. He skulked off, blood boiling as the older man laughed in victory. “This ain’t over, you mother hubbin’ hoss.” He growled to himself, already out of hearing distance. He needed to go down to the cellar, take his anger out on someone who couldn’t fight back.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Schonheit was welcomed back to his speakeasy with a bottle of beer in his face. “Jay!” A obviously already drunk Scottish voice called, “c’mere ye!” He called, pushing the beer into the German’s hand, and throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Wh’re were ye!” He hiccuped, mouth forming a weak smile, “ye said… Ye said…” He hiccuped, then erupted into a fit of giggles. “I d’n’t ‘ven rem’ber!” He laughed, flopping down on the couch.

Jay glared at the bottle of beer roughly shoved in his hands and set it delicately on the table, “Look it’s not important... I vas roughing out some edges vth ze neighbors..” He shrugged and rubbed at his temple, He quickly removed his black leather jacket and wrapped it around a bar chair, sporting now what he wore underneath, a red dress shirt. He crossed the room and sat beside the drunk scotsman, and elegantly crossed his leg over another, “Any vord on ze disappearance of Tony?” 

“I… Nah… Dumb sap pr’bly got himself caught by s’me rivals.” The one-eyed man rolled his eyes, taking another large chug of his beer. “So how’d ye date with the neighbors go?” He smirked, chuckling like an idiot.

“I could boot you out right here you know.” Jay hissed, venom on his tongue. He got up from his position on the couch and paced, one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose, the other held behind his back, “Dammit. I told Tony not to be a dipshit, vhat does he do? Be’s a dipshit.” He turned back around and grabbed the bottle of beer resting on the table, “Fuck it..fuck it all!”

“Ye wouldn’t kick me out.” The scotsman smiled, wrapping an arm around Jay, “ye know you love meh!” He smiled stupidly. “I s’d we should’ve sent some’ne with more brains ye know.” He shook his head, leaning back to his side of the couch, “n’ we got a lost dipshit who kn’s m’re than ‘e should.”

“Don’t remind me.” The red clad man crossed his arms over his chest, taking another small sip of his beer, setting it back down, “knows more than he should..Dammit you're right...remind me to listen to you more.” He leapt back up, continuing his pacing.

“Listen to me more often, yeh great lactating wet nurse!” Tavish spat, before buckling over with laughter. “It’ll be fine! Stop ye pacing. I’ll find the dipshit tomorra’, then we can beat him for bein’ a dipshit.” He smiled semi-reassuringly, standing up, only to trip on his first step, and land against the bar.

Jay hid his face in his hands to stop himself from laughing, “O-okay.. okay, you’ve convinced me, but I get to do ze beating a’ight?” The German let off a gruff snort of laughter, before leaning against the bar, serious expression donning his face, “Vhere vould h-” A pure look of horror crossed his face.

“What?” The scotsman asked, confusion masking his face.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Jay slammed his fist into the bar table, and threw on his leather jacket, “Tony passed by Serpent's Fang territory zhat night! Dammit!” He tugged a drawer open and grabbed a silver, gold accented, pistol, and shoved it roughly into his belt and stormed off towards the door.

The scotsman sighed, before running into his room, and emerging with a sword, “c’me on Eyelander, l’ks like we have to deal w’th th’s shit t’night.” Tavish shook his head. “I kn’, I kn’. But ye kn’ Jay, can’t l’ve things till the m’rnin’, g’tta get i’ d’ne.”

“I’m gonna kill Tony vhen I see him. If he has said a vord...” Jay trailed off, pushing open the door, and setting off at a run.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Dell was in the washroom, washing the blood off his hands, when he heard the knocking at the door. He turned off the tap, and poked his head out the door. Some thug was standing at the his side of the door, opening the slide. “Hello?” The nameless douche asked, looking through the opening. Dell heard someone demanding entrance, the voice sounding familiar. “What’s the password?” The thug asked, trying to sound intimidating. He wasn’t. He just sounded like the idiot he was. Dell had nicknamed him Doorknob, after his level of intelligence. The voice growled again, Dell pinpointing it finally. Jay Schonheit.

He sighed loudly, before stalking up and shoving Doorknob away, “whataya want, Schonheit?” Dell asked irritated.

The door shuddered as the German slammed his fist into the solid door, “You know vhy I’m here Conagher.” He hissed, cursing, slamming his fist into the door again.

“Jay, if it’s the money, I’ve told you, the Boss ain’t givin’ it. Go home.” Dell growled, “I’ve had a long fucking day.” He glared, not wanting to have to deal with Schonheit’s shit again, tonight.

“Vhere ze fuck is Tony.” His voice was as sharp as knives, made slightly scarier by his low tone and thick accent. He wanted answer, and he wanted his boy back.

Dell’s face lit up with understanding, “it was yer boy we had in our basement, wasn’t it.” He started laughing, shaking his head. He wiped his forehead, knowingly leaving a trail of the boy’s blood behind.

“Vhat ze fuck did you do?” Jay’s voice lowered a little, leaving behind some of the anger, to be replaced with worry.

Dell sighed, “if I’d known he was your boy, I wouldn’t have hit so hard…” He smirked, “he didn’t say anything though. A’ course, I wasn’t asking.”

There was the soft clatter as the pistol fell out of his hand and hit the concrete, “Vhat. Did .You Do?”

Dell shook his head, “comes with the business Schonheit, you know that.” He was goading the German on. It wasn’t necessary, but the Texan was in a particularly bad mood, and this was just what he needed to cheer himself up.

“Ik zal je verscheuren neuken beetjes, Conagher!” Jay slammed against the door again, just to accent his point, he listened to Dell laugh and hissed through grit teeth, “Mark my vords you southern shit!”

Dell’s laughter cut, “go to hell Jay.” He snarled, leaning towards the door, “ya can have the corpse if you want. I can’t promise it’ll look a lot like him though.” He tilted his head, his mouth contorting to a dark sneer.

Jay was quiet for several seconds, before he spoke up, voice low with regret and anger mingled as one, “Don’t forget about ze deal ve had.” and he turned to leave, picking up his pistol. He walked a few steps back before firing a shot into the wooden door, and without looking back he kept walking.

Dell took a look to his side, Doorknob lying on the hardwood floor, blood leaking from his stomach. Dell shook his head, stepping over the crying body of the brainless thug, avoiding the bloody pool gathering around the man. “Good riddance.” Dell scoffed, before spitting on the dying man, and skulking back to the washroom.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Dell entered the room, trying to hold back from just attacking the old shit that had ordered him up. “Yes Boss?” He asked, staying at the doorway.

The man was sitting in his chair, facing the large window behind the desk. “What was that gunshot?” He asked, not turning to face the southerner.

“Jay came by. Wanted that Tony fellow back. Sadly for him the boy was weak. Died real quick that one.” Dell sneered, “told ‘im so, so he took off. Shot through the door though. Killed Doorknob.”

“Would you talk like a normal human being for once?” The man spat, head turning to the side.

“He killed David.” Dell growled.

The old man growled, squeezing the chair’s armrest. “Kill him.” He ordered. “I want him dead by the end of the week.”

“Mr. Edecit-” Dell started.

“Get out!” Mr. Edecit snarled, chair spinning around to face Dell. His finger was pointed out, accenting his order.

“I’ll do it.” Dell sighed, leaving the room.  
______________________________________________________________________________

Jay threw open the door of his speakeasy, glaring daggers at the few patrons left, drinking at the bar. He growled, and pointed at the door, his mind twirling over itself, “Get. Out. Now!” He bellowed anger contorting his words into the equivalent of the shot of his pistol. “I vant you all out! NOW!” He walked past the few terrified people running to get out of the way of the raging German. The scotsman behind him trying to assure them that Jay was just having a bad day, and that they should enjoy the rest of their night, and come again.

He purposely knocked over a barstool, before kicking it, having it skid several feet across the wooden floor. The leather jacket bound man slumped onto the couch. He hadn’t been sitting for more than twenty seconds before he was on his feet again, pacing.

“Ye want me to do somth’n’ aboot th’s? I can have Mr. Mundy ‘re in h’f an ‘our.” Tavish asked, trying not to ensue his bosses wrath upon himself.

Jay whipped around, shuffling his glasses upon his nose, and ran his gloved hands through his dyed hair, “No. No. I vant zhat Texan’s blood to be on my hands!” He snapped.

Tavish nodded, “I c’d set up a meeting. Under the g’se of ‘r money deal.” He offered, stepping forward now that he felt a bit more confident.

“Vhat, and let zhem come armed to ze teeth and take me out vhere I stand? No zhanks.” The German scoffed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, an action that had become a lot more common in the past few days.

The scotsman nodded, “want a drink?” He offered, sliding over the bar table, shooing away the bartender.

“Fuck.” Jay hissed under his breath, “Yes. Yes I do... vhat’s ze strongest ve’ve got?”

The scotsman nodded once again, choosing Scotch, and pouring it rim-high into two beer mugs. “To getting too drunk than we should!” He gave a half smirk, and started chugging the strong drink back, alcohol tolerance scary compared to a regular man.

Jay instead opted to lightly sip at it instead, not wanting to get too under the influence.. He had a big week ahead of him granted, and spent far longer swirling the glass than actually drinking it.


	2. rivalry

“Kaizer?” A familiar German accent filled the room, still laden with cold anger, “I need your help.”

“Was willst du Idiot?” The other German called back, not turning to face his boss.

“Vone more comment like zhat from you and I’m docking your pay.. again.” Jay snapped back, obviously not in the mood, “I need you and Jery to run me a mission.”

“Vhat kind of ‘mission’ are ve talking?” Kaizer asked, turning around, face blank.

Jay explained sternly, “My booze shipment is late, and ze boys down at ze docks seem ‘clueless’ as to vhere its gone. Zhey obviously know vhere it is, if zhey don’t have it zhemselves, and I need you to bash some skulls in, right up your alley no? Anyvays, Jery knows ze town like the back of his hand, pier included, so he’ll be your guide.” He crossed his arms over his chest, straightening out his point that he wanted it done, and he wanted it done sooner than later.

“Vell can’t Jery do zhat himself!” Kaizer scoffed, “I’m busy.” He puffed out a breath of smoke, waving his joint around in a ‘piss off I’m smoking’ manner.

“Unlike you, Jery is a respectful man, and doesn’t galavant around bashing brains in for fun. And he can barely handle a pistol. Get off your arsch and do it!” Jay shot back with the burn of fire.

“Vhatever you mozherless fuck.” Kaizer rolled his eyes, getting up and skulking past Jay.

Jay stood there, glaring at the man, clenching his teeth and fists until his knuckles went ivory, “Vhat did I just hear, Schurzenjager?”

“Nozhing Jay!” He called back, raising a single hand to wave him off.

“No. Vhat ze HELL did you just say.” Jay growled, ice burning beneath his circular rimmed glasses.

Kaizer turned around, sneering, “I said, ‘you mozherless fuck.’” He snarled.

Jay’s face showed nothing but steely anger, “How DARE you, you piece of shit?” His voice was low, and deadly, “Do you have ANY ides vhat zhat’s like?”

“No. Cause I ain’t a mozherless fuck.” Kaizer said simply, rolling his eyes, “I’m doing vhat you said, aren’t I?” He gave a little head shake, before turning around to leave the room.

“Zhy do I even keep him around?” He said to no one in particular, as he ran his hands through his hair, “Dammit..” The German sat down, and rolled his shoulders in their sockets. He just needed some time alone.. but that wouldn’t happen, and he knew very well it wouldn’t.

Predicting his luck, Jay’s silence was interrupted by one of his runners, Jessica. “Eh boss?” She asked, waving her hand to catch his attention. “Another deal went south… One a’ the guys from Radeberger Brewery was a snitch.” She sneered, rolling her eyes, “I managed to get away with the alcohol, but the cops nabbed Nicolas, and that hick.”

Jay ripped his glasses from his eyes, and rubbed at his sore eyes. He rubbed the lenses into his shirt and sighed, “Vhat is zhat.. five guys in ze past month? Good.” He asked sarcastically.

Silence engulfed the room, and the Teuton got up and covered his eyes, about to start pacing again.. but he opted to flop back into the couch. He shook his head, and tore his glasses off of his nose, and set them on the table beside him and placed his hands over his eyes, leaning over his legs, resting his elbow on his knees. His voice was barely above a whisper as he echoed a hollow phrase from between his fingers...

“I..I’m sorry...” 

Jessica looked to the ground, “I’ll… Be going now…” She shuffled towards the exit.

“Vait.. Jess..” He called after her and raised his head from his hands, blurry eyed, “Can you do me a favor.. bitte?”

“Yeah, ‘course sir.” She nodded.

“I need eyes on the Fangs... I.. I don’t trust zhem farzher zhan I could throw zhem.. and I do believe zhey vant my head.” He laughed gruffly.

“I don’t trust ‘em farther than I can drop ‘em clumsily over my shoulder. I gotcha boss!” She gave him a thumbs up, and a tip of her baseball cap. And with that, she was off.

He got up again, faintly smiling as he walked out into the main room, “Tav.. Can I send you frolicing into town for some errands? I vant to drown myself in booze, and you seem to have already done so... Essentially I just vant some alone time, and I have to run zhis place.. even zhough I did scare off ze customers with my atrocious temper.”

“Huh… Yeah… Sure…” The drunken man raised an arm, and swayed uneasily out of the room.

“Vhy I trust zhat man is a mystery..”  
______________________________________________________________________________

The next day started as well as could be imagined, with Jay, a pounding headache, and several bottles of cheap beer. He had forced himself to get up, thinking to himself, maybe he could finally do all that paperwork that needed to be done, or maybe even mail his father a letter back in Germany, not that he cared anyways, but he figured he should, he was his only son for Pete’s sake... but he ended up just milling around the Speakeasy, tending to his dwindling booze stocks, cleaning bar tops and floors and clearing tables.

“I’d make a good housevife” He said to no one in particular, enjoy the silence a little more than he should, and when he finally set down the cloth, picked up a drink, and pen and paper, it had already sank into night.

The sound of the door opening drew his attention, Jay figuring it must have been Tavish returning. Too early if you asked him. He was surprised however, when the man that entered was non other than Dell Conagher. “Schonheit.” He said simply, walking further into the Speakeasy. The man looked around, having never actually been inside the building himself. “Nice place.” He said, taking a seat at the bar, stealing a bottle of beer. He started chugging it, not even really asking for permission, Jay having not stopped him simply because of how odd the situation was. “Sorry, I needed that.” He said, rubbing sweat his forehead. “Goddammit Jay!” He growled, slamming his fist into the bar.

“Just have ze damn beer on ze house!” Jay raised his hands in mock terror, and through his chastising gaze, Dell could tell he was really not pleased at having to say that. He turned back to paper, where he was furiously scribbling, leaving trails of brilliant cursive behind, and seemed to barely acknowledge the Southerner sitting beside him until he lifted his head, lip curled, “Vhy are you here? I vas enjo-”

Dell slammed a kitchen knife into the bar table, a distinctive lack of emotion on his face. “I think you’re smart enough to know why I’m here.” He started simply, voice hushed, almost a whisper. “It’s nothin’ personal. Just business. Boss was tired of your crap. I was too… But this isn’t how I think things should have ended. Sorry Jay.” He was motionless, knife still lodged into the bar table with the Texan’s large hand gripping it firmly.

Jay’s eyes connected with the knife almost immediately, before darting up to the Engineer’s shaded eyes. The edges of his mouth twitched as his small satisfied little grin that had been plastered onto his face after being mock horrified, changed to one of pure terror, that was quickly overcome by calmness, like he had expected this to happen, “I guess zhat makes six zhen.” He turned away from the Texan and set his pen down, The southerner having noticed just how shaky the German’s hands had become.. No matter how much he fought it and hid it under his cloak, Dell knew he was scared.

“My father used to say good things about you…” Dell actually whispered this time, “used to say you’d be big news around these parts. Guess he was right.” Dell ran the blade through the wood, cutting a large crack in the bar table. “What was that? Three years ago?” Dell asked rhetorically, a bit louder this time. “I miss the old man… Ma does too…” He turned around, to lean against the bar. “I’m thinking of heading back to Bee Cave after this… I’m sick of my old Uncle bossin’ me around, like I’m some nobody. Like Doorknob- Nice shot on that one by the way.” Dell nodded, not looking at the German man he was sent there to kill.

Jay grunted in response. Just a simple, non-committal little noise and he picked up the pen again, listening to the other man speak. “It vas never my goal to be ‘big news’ as you said it. Never vas, never vill be.. All I vanted to do vas earn some cash, and provide drinks for the folks.. and maybe do some illegal acts every vonce and a vhile...” It was a bland as a statement could possibly get as he set down his pen, “Your fazher... he vas.. vone of ze better men I could have know, and the pleasure is of the same nature to you Mr.Conagher. Now if you’re going to kill me, please get it over vith, I have more important zhings to attend to.”

Dell lifted himself off the bar stool, moving towards Jay, knife pointed straight at the German, “I really am sorry ‘bout this Jay… It’s only business.” And with that, he lunged, knife suddenly pointing down in his hand, as he moved to stab into the German.

That was exactly was Jay was rooting for. Sure.. he’d make it out as if he was prepared to leave the Earth in a fight, but heaven knew well and good it was just a ploy. To hell he was going to die without a fight. He shifted to the side, just barely missing the point of the blade, and he sent his elbow into the Texan’s face, earning several curses of pain.

Dell stumbled back, before shaking it off, and swinging a slice at the German, which was promptly dodged. This time however, he followed it up with an uppercut, fist colliding with the German’s jaw, sending the man sprawling backwards.

He tumbled against the hardwood of his establishment and let out a small gasp as his back slammed into the dark wood. Briefly stunned, Dell gained ground as he stomped forward, knife glinting the light above ominously into Jay’s glacier blue eyes. Before Dell could advance any further ,however, Jay was back on his feet, stance defensive as he backed away. Startled by his own clumsiness, he bumped into the wall and before he could react Dell was already on him, cold metal was suddenly pressed against his jugular. 

Dell’s sneer widened, eyes burning beneath his sunglasses. Before he could slice the knife however, he was stunned by a sudden knee to the groin. The knife dropped to the floor, lightly slashing the Texan’s leg, as the man’s face scrunched up in pain. With Dell’s temporary distraction, Jay took the chance to shove him back, knocking the Texan on his back. His next movement was to bend down and grab the knife. By the time he was back upright, Dell was already recovered, ready for another go at the German.

Jay flipped the knife in his hands, catching it once more by the handle, “Tables turned huh?” Jay taunted as he, in the dominant position this time, grabbed Dell by the front collars and slammed his back against the nearest wall, earning a small grunt from the Texan. He placed the knife point delicately in the middle of his chest, right above the Southerner’s heart as he sneer, feeling the man struggle beneath his gloved hand, “I know every single nerve in your body.. and I know exactly which vones could kill you.. You picked ze wrong person to tangle v-” 

Dell’s fist shot forward, slamming forcefully into the German’s nose. The older man stumbled backwards, knife falling to the floor once more. Dell ignored it, instead opting to grab the man by his collar, and shove him up onto a table, where he proceeded to punch him right in the center of his face, “You! Fucking! Nazi! Son! Of! A! Bitch!” Dell roared, fist wrapping against the pinned man’s face, drawing blood from the German’s lip, eyebrow, and nose. 

Jay was fairly certain the glass of his glasses had shattered as well as he tried to blink away the blood dripping into his eyes. He shot an arm out grabbing Dell’s hand, biting it hard enough to draw blood. The Texan flinched, called him a few names, and tensed, but otherwise didn’t react. The German managed to kick his foot into the Texan’s stomach, sending him flying to the ground. He wiped his nose taking a second to inspect the blood before he snarled out, voice barely audible, deep and intimidating, “You.. Fucking... Bitch...”

Dell shook his head, trying to rid his head of the fuzziness that now filled it. He could feel the blood pooling above his lip, as he rolled to his side. Once he was there he could see the splatter of blood that came from the cut that now decorated the back of his buzz-cut head. “Sunova!” He hissed, hand whipping across the back of his head, feeling out the length of the slash.

“Don’t vorry, zhat von’t kill you,” Jay hissed, malicious intent in his eyes, burning a deep blue. He waltzed over to the Texan, still positioned on the ground and leaned over him, “Vould you like to just give up? I, however, have no reason to slit your throat.. I don’t vant anymore blood to stain my floors... but I’ll just have to increase ze pay ze Serpents owe me for zhis little inconvenience.” He spat, running the back of his hand over his forehead, effectively only smearing the blood there into crimson streaks.

Dell however, wasn’t taking Jay’s crap, and instead flew a leg out, tripping the German, rather successfully he might add. Once he was standing, Dell lashed a foot out, slamming it directly into the other man’s side, before repeating the motion three more times, each one harder than the last. He reached his leg back one last time, but instead of sending it into the side of the German’s stomach, he sent it right into his cheek.

Jay struggled, hand reaching to grab the knife that was just inches away from his fingertips, but each kick made his eyes flicker, black threatening to consume his gaze and send him spiraling into unconsciousness. The German’s fingers grazed the hilt of the weapon once, but the last kick drew a pain ridden scream from his throat. Well.. Dell was serious about killing him.. That was certain...

He felt a sudden weight on his back as the Texan placed his foot onto his back, pressing his chest against the floor, and each passing second the pressure became more and more so. Just to prove how enraged the other man was, He leaned over, and grabbed Jay by the hair, and slammed his face into the ground.

His vision flickered. He was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, where he would be at the complete mercy of the Southerner. All he felt was pain.. and a deep sense of accomplishment.. If he passed out now... he knew he had went out leaving his mark. No matter what he said, Jay was big news, whether he intended to be or not. But, he couldn’t just let himself topple over the edge to his certain death now, not yet.. he still had something left to do. 

The weight had gotten to the point that Jay was surprised his spine hadn’t snapped. It was if the man above him had literally placed his entire body weight into his spinal cord. A minute and he’d be dead, and he was sure of it. He glanced back through his blood clouded eyes, Dell’s mouth was moving, saying something about how he had made this far more difficult than it had to be. He scoffed. 

He actually managed to scoff, even in his position, at the outlandishness of the statement. What? Did Dell actually expect him to just wordlessly and senselessly accept his fate with no retaliation whatsoever?

His train of thought was broken as the weight lifted slightly from his back, allowing him to gasp in a few, much needed breaths and squirm a little, before all the previous force from before, and more, came crashing back down. That’s all he had needed though.. The little wiggle room he had to squirm was enough for Jay’s fingers to push the blade closer to himself. He wrapped his hand around it, feeling the grooves notched in from a previous owner’s grip, just as fierce as his was now. As he counted to three, he noticed a slight change in Dell. He was less concentrated on squeezing the life out of the German, and was paying more attention to Jay’s hand, gripping the knife.

This was his chance, and he took it. 

The blade darted forward like a serpent and sliced into the man’s leg, right where the blade had sliced earlier, causing a deep wound that slammed into his flesh. It had done the trick, causing the man to yelp, but the rest of the Texan’s actions were a blur to the Teuton.

He rolled over, away from the man touching the bloodied wound, and sucked in a few breaths, and that’s all he had time for. 

Dell was leaning against a table, visually examining his wound. When he decided it was okay enough to deal with later, he lunged, grabbing around Jay’s back, and pulling the man’s stomach down onto his now raised knee. Then he shoved the German away, the man landing heavily onto the floor. Dell groaned, panting as he backed up to the bar, trying to regain his breath, and a steady heartbeat. The Teuton was still lying on the floor, obviously still awake, as he was cringing from the pain that no doubt took seed in every part of his body. The Texan decided to take the precious moments he had, to find a new weapon, which came in the form of his empty beer bottle. He gripped it by the neck, before raising it to about shoulder height, and slamming it against the bar counter, breaking the bottom into multiple sharp edges, each easily able to pierce the German’s skin.

Jay shifted.. pain coursing through his body at every movement he made.

Get It together Joseph.. You will NOT die..

He tried to talk himself into some kind of confident pose, but the very act of thinking riddled him in mind-numbing pain, the kind you could feel from you ears to you toes.. He placed an arm out, having been lying on his stomach, and used it to support himself, other hand moving to push himself up. Damn it hurt.. and white hot flashes of pain were all he was aware of as he got up, head swarming with dizziness and cloudiness. 

The German pushed himself fully up to stand on wobbly legs, as he ran his hand across his face, trying to remove the blood blocking his vision. The two stood there, holding that position, and holding each others gaze, giving one another time to catch their breath. The Texan noted how bloody terrible the normally perfect man usually looked. His hair was ruffled and clung to him oddly, sweat plastering some hair to his forehead, and what gel was left made his hair stick up at awkward angles. His face was bruised far more than the southerner had thought, both eyes having been black. Blood dripped from the cut on his forehead, slopping down on his broken, bent, and utterly useless circular rimmed glasses, the lenses long gone. On top of that, he was sure he had broken a few ribs, bruised some sides, and ruined his clothes. It was almost comical how badly the man was beaten.. it seemed cartoonish, or hellish.

Either or fit the description.

He noticed, that beneath the blood and pain, Jay still snarled at him. It was that low rumble from within his throat, and his posture than basically screamed at him to take another crack at him, that brought Dell to attack him again.

Dell threw his fist forward, effectively predicting that Jay would dodge it, before throwing his elbow back, and splatting it against the German’s ribcage, feeling the broken rib move underneath his attack. He immediately whipped around, and thrust a foot up, landing it right in between the man’s legs. Jay swore what Dell assumed were German profanities, before the chair Dell threw slammed into his side. 

Jay barely even grunted a word. He just used what energy he had left to roll over onto his stomach. His arms faltered as he tried to push himself up, and he landed with a heavy thud against the floor. Now, the only feeling, thought, or word he spoke was just pain, near-lifeless murmurs of pain. He tried once more to push himself up, and managed to push himself onto his knees. His eyes never let the wood as he coughed, blood trailing from his lips.

Dell’s foot was then on his back, shoving him back down to the floor, before being brought back, to shove the German over on his back. The knife was now in the Texan man’s hand, blade facing down. He stood above the German, blood running over his practically yellow-teeth, piling at the bottom of his lips, and spilling out down the sides of his mouth, which was contorted into an angry sneer.

Dell took a moment to wipe the blood from his mouth, before taking his signature sunglasses off to check for cracks. His eyes were a vibrant green, like an emerald, and Jay would know, he owned more than one of those. The Texan slid the black-lensed glasses back on his face as soon he had determined there were not any nicks on his precious eye-wear. The man seemed calmer now, and he sat down on Jay’s stomach, effectively pinning him to the floor, as well as causing a terrible amount of pain. He brought the knife down towards the floor, Jay dodging it narrowly.

Jay spat in the face of the southerner above him, challenging him to finish the job. The pain had yet to subside into a dull throb, but he had gotten more used to it..He tried to control it, to think about something different.. but he just ended up looking into his own reflection glinting off the emotionless black glasses above him. He couldn’t help but notice how he looked like a young child trying to look tough.. although he knew he didn’t have anything left in him to be that.. to be tough. He squirmed a little under the Texan, and couldn’t help but look a little horrified as he caught the malicious glare of his opponent from over his shielded eyes.

“Any last words?!” The man growled, saliva mixed with blood splattering against the German’s face. His face was no longer sneering, but was still contorted out of its norm, offering no good feelings what-so-ever. For a second Jay could have sworn he saw regret pass through Dell’s face, but he couldn’t dwell, as a fist slammed against his face, “I said, any last... Goddamn words!”

Jay’s mind twirled over itself trying to find a response, but he couldn’t put words to actions.. His lips parted, slurring some sort of answer, but he just..He just lolled his head to the side, letting his eyes flicker closed, ragged breaths shuddering his body.

“Be that way.” Dell sighed quietly, before he reached his arm out, raising it slightly, before slamming it down, the hand with the knife being held right above Jay’s left palm. Dell closed his eyes as the sharp metal pierced skin, drawing blood, and tearing flesh. Sound was coming at him slowly, giving him the chance to hear each tendon in Jay’s hand break underneath the steel of the knife. “I’m sorry…” He whispered, holding back tears as he wrenched the knife out.

Jay’s head shot up as a scream was ripped from his throat. If now were the time, he was crying, most definitely. He didn’t notice the salty tear patter down his face, and focused on the blood streaming from his hand. 

My...Gott

He tried to flex his fingers, but all he felt was numbness, and a shiver of hurt that ran up his spine, sending shudders through him. His head thumped against the ground as he managed to force out something, eyes squeezing shut. “J...Jus..Just.. let...me..me..do vone zhi..zhing..”

Dell sighed, head looking down at Jay’s chest. “Fine. Be quick.” He didn’t move, other than slide his hand off of Jay’s arm, floor now being his support.

Tentatively he moved, forcing his body to rise to meet Dell’s, as he caught the confused eye of the man above him and moved his hand away from his own side to push the Texan’s head closer to his. Catching the eye once more he pressed his lips against his, just barely touching. He pulled away, and instead used his hand to push the man’s glasses up his face to look into his eyes, “Zh..zhanks..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Another chapter!  
> So we decided that we wanted to have an in depth fight scene, because who doesn't love a little bit of that? But, that aside, it may be a little unrealistic but we hope you enjoy regardless!  
> Thanks so much for your comments and kudos, it means a lot!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is a collaborative project with my best friend who does all the lovely writing for Dell Conagher! He's an awesome friend, and is sometimes super busy, so I'm not sure if we will have a regular schedule for the release of new chapters, but I can say pretty safely that they will come along pretty quickly. Thanks for stopping by!


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